Friday, August 28, 2015

Need moar coffee...

It's been one fucking long fucking bad day.  Starting with the kids' egregious behavior this morning, continuing through hitting every intersection where I didn't have the right-of-way exactly wrong, and with two of my students keeping me right up to the last second of class to the point I was met with pixie tears because I was almost late to pick her up.  And she wouldn't nap.  And hasn't left my general vicinity since, and I need some fucking space after the fucking awful day.  

Cricket left me a lovely gift in the middle of the floor: a hairball the size of a tennis ball.  Right about the time I had to leave to pick up the imp.

And the kids' behavior has not improved over the morning.  It's not necessarily bad behavior, not constantly, but they are a lot more prone to fighting than they even usually are.  And I am less patient with their spats and their carelessness with each other, with toys, and with the dry-erase marker caps than I usually am.  

I want coffee.  I need coffee.  Coffee is my comfort drink.* 

I also need sleep tonight, because we have plans tomorrow. 

Fuck it.  If I don't get coffee, I'm going to end up screaming.  Either at the ceiling, or at one of the children.

6 comments:

  1. Well, maybe things will be better tomorrow. Sometimes a day just does't go well.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's already starting better. I didn't have to get up until I was ready to, and don't have to fight with the kids to get them ready.

      Delete
  2. Coffee is good medicine.

    I hope your tomorrows have adequate ammounts of coffee :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Not all of them will, and I accept this as a price of raising children and trying to get their needs met before I think about my own.

      Delete
  3. The best day of my life was the day when Boo would get himself out the door without me having to get stern with him. Hope things are going better.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm looking forward to that--the kids getting out the door without me having to do more than remind them it's time--but it's going to be a few more weeks, at least, before they get used to the routine.

      Delete

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